


Win the Game

by f_imaginings



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Dream Bubbles, Grieving, Loss, M/M, Sadstuck, Winning the game, graphic depiction of panic attack, kankri has a breakdown, karkat wins sgrub, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_imaginings/pseuds/f_imaginings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in denial is easy for a ghost, being dead is the constant, and change is an outlier that no one expects. Having enjoyed complacency in a constant relationship with Karkat for a sweep or so of his dreaming time, Kankri built himself a wall of stubborn denial. His afterlife could carry on like this, he could grow with Karkat, be his constant companion, watch him age, support him through his lows and his triumphs. </p>
<p>He couldn't bear the notion of Karkat winning the game, but of course he would win the game. He would either win or die and Kankri could not bear either of those options, though if he had to pick, he knows which one he would choose. Karkat has to win the game. </p>
<p>Then Kankri would be all alone again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Win the Game

"Things are building up, I think. There’s a chance, or at least that’s what Dave says, that tomorrow we could actually win the game for good."

The words shattered Kankri, turned his entire world jagged and sharp. Panic lanced through him, hitting him hard.

It took all of his considerable effort to maintain composure. To not spoil these precious few moments. It was integral, no, crucial to the plan that Kankri maintain composure.

For Karkat’s sake.

"Oh really?" His voice remained level. Almost disinterested. Inside he was a lurid mess. He barely managed not to choke on the words, his chest hurt so bad. "Well congratulations are in order."

On the other side of the couch Karkat scoffed, still sprawled all casually across the cushions, like he owned the place. In the short time that he’d been here it did indeed seem like he owned the place. They both did. Kankri’s dream hive had become a home to them, through housing them both. Keeping them soundly together.

"It’s not like it’ll be that easy. I mean, there’s a plan. An abso-fucking-lutely awful plan if you ask me, but there’s a chance at least."

"What are the chances of your safety and survival?" Kankri hid the strain in his voice, though his body was stiff, rigidity holding him in his seat when all he longed for was to have Karkat in his arms. To hold him and hold him enough that maybe he would always feel some imprint of him in his arms. His chest was aching, aching so badly at everything. He doubted a single thing could make this ache any easier to bear.

"I’m not keen to jinx us now but, I think, we’re not so far up shit creek as we’d like to believe."

"Well, don’t let me catch you with eyes like mine." The laugh that followed was forced. Terribly forced. He was momentarily grateful for his blank empty eyes, simply for how they masked Kankri’s ardent staring, how keenly he examined every inch of Karkat, every slight change on his face. If Kankri looked hard enough perhaps he wouldn’t miss anything. Perhaps the Karkat he committed to memory would be a perfect duplicate. It might be as if he was hardly gone at all.

Karkat’s eyes softened. He leaned forward and placed his hand over Kankri’s, oozing compassionate warmth.

"Don’t worry. I promised you I’ll do my best to stay alive and I will."

Kankri’s smile was noticeably forced now as he turned his hand to squeeze back at Karkat’s.

"Your life is your most valuable thing - the most valuable thing. Just … Keep yourself safe."

Kankri squeezed Karkat’s hand again and Karkat squeezed back, a reassuring smile on his face.

"I will. I promise."

Karkat’s hand was warm and real and solid oh so solid. Kankri could feel his pulse beat at his wrist and his hand move in slight increments, accommodating it’s position. Kankri looked down at their hands and focused, intent, on the feeling of Karkat, the feeling of Karkat with him, the feeling of Karkat’s hand within his own, the feeling of Karkat’s pulse and his life and the feeling of his hand moving and twisting and -

"Ow. Geez. Sorry Kankri, but you don’t have to squeeze that hard. You were starting to hurt me."

Karkat removed his hand and cradled it against his chest. The motion snapped Kankri out of his fugue and he blinked before starting forward, hands out gentle, beseeching while his face twisted apologetic.

"Oh I’m so sorry. I’m sorry Karkat I was lost in thought. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine." Karkat said, shaking his hand out, before he looked up, pulled by a seemingly invisible tug near the ceiling. "Look, I’ve got to go, I think Dave’s waking me up. I’ll see you later okay?"

Already the air around Karkat seemed to take on a blurry haze, and Kankri’s expression turned from apologetic to aghast as he saw Karkat’s particles slowly phase transparent. His sudden slip in self control gave him away, the lurch of imminent loss struck Kankri visibly. He could no longer school his features. Karkat must have seen the horror on Kankri’s face.

"Hey, it’s okay - I -"

"Goodbye." Kankri blurted out, the words seemed to tumble from him. "I love you. Good luck and goodbye."

Karkat’s vanishing forehead furrowed and his mouth opened to form his reply. The words faded as he did, though it’s clear Karkat intended to start some mounting argument.

"Kankri, you do-"

Sound faded, as Karkat woke up, and the last particles of him in the dream bubbles vanished completely.

Kankri sat rigid in his seat on the couch for some time, staring at _Karkat’s now vacant spot_. He felt frozen, his expression still jarred in horror at Karkat’s disappearance.

He sat still for a very long time. Just staring at _Karkat’s empty space_. His mind had shut off, his thoughts were a vacuum, not void, just replaying Karkat’s expression upon leaving over and over and over.

After a while Kankri came to realise that his jaw had been hurting. Clenched as it was to keep his morose melancholy word vomit at bay. He moved his hand up to his jaw to ease the tension and came to realise that his hand was shaking. It was shaking, uncontrollably, trembling as he pressed it to his jaw. His fingers felt cold (dead) and soothed the jaw’s ache but the trembling would not stop. Soon the jaw seemed to be trembling too, in tandem with his hand.

Kankri’s thoughts in the vacuum took notice for a moment of his body only to note that it wasn’t just a hand and a jaw trembling. Kankri’s whole body was shaking. Shaking and shaking. His bones felt brittle, he felt a heavy rattling feeling coarse through his body as he noticed it shaking, his eyes still glued to _Karkat’s empty space_. The shaking grew stronger and the rattling, the rattling was loud, a loud forceful presence, and finally Kankri took note of the sound.

It was his breath.

Rattling racking sobs wrecked Kankri’s body, heaving his lungs, hyperventilating sadness throughout him.

His eyes hurt from staying open and pink watery tears leaked down his cheeks and his eyes stayed open, desperately glued to _the spot where Karkat sat_ , wishing he was still there.

His eyes hurt desperately, his body shook desperately, and his chest rattled desperately, words intelligible between the desperate sobs.

Words like “no” over and over.

He was breathing. His sobs became gasps, a sure sign that he was breathing, but he felt like he hadn’t enough air within him. His chest felt so full, so full of this gnarled and twisted mesh of feeling. Feeling that hurt. Feeling he didn’t want to name or acknowledge. Feeling that pushed the air from his lungs and never let it back in.

His jaw hurt again. The gasps of his sobs became fractured half breaths, shallow, sharp wet sounds that cut off before reaching fruition. Kankri’s hurt, stiff, shaking body began to curl in on itself. To wrap around itself. He began to rock back and forth while his eyes were glued to _the empty space where Karkat disappeared_ , waking, this time, to face the game, possibly for the last time. Karkat left to face the game and win and if he won he would never be coming back here. He would _never_ return to the dream bubbles. He would live and go on living and Kankri would be here, he would be dead, he would be dead, dead, dead, lost, hurt, alone, here without Karkat _without Karkat_ without his whole, his heart, his everything. He would be here and dead and missing what he had and Karkat, _his Karkat_ , Karkat would be, Karkat isn’t, Karkat _left_ and -

A foreign sound wrenched through the empty hive and echoed, the sound bouncing off the walls. The sound was loud, wordless, thick with sadness. A mournful wail, slicing through the silent feeling of contained emotion, slicing through any veneer of control. The sound poured from Kankri’s mouth and seemed to go on, unending.

It took Kankri some time to realise the wail came from him.

Curled in on himself, wailing unheard pleas to the vast expanse of paradox space, plea’s for Karkat’s return, plea’s for Karkat, _please_ , for Karkat, anything Karkat, _anything_. Kankri finally closed his eyes, tearing them from _Karkat’s empty space_. His brows furrowed together, his eyes were screwed almost painfully shut, and his hands clutched painfully around his arms, nails digging into his skin through the wool mesh of his sweater, leaving crescent spots of blood on his skin. He wailed, screamed, sobbed uncontrollably into the ether.

On the coffee table, unheard over the loud lament, buzzed Kankri’s palmhusk. A message flashed up on the screen. A message from Porrim.

**"Kanny, Kanaya just told me that they’re finishing the game tomorrow."**

_Buzz._

**"Kanny, are you okay?"**

_Buzz._

**"Is Karkat with you? Kanny?"**

_Buzz._

**"Kanny?"**


End file.
